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And if the priest refuse his rights,

My hand his stubbornness requites,

And soon he finds him in the lurch,

With loss of honour, goods, and church.

Whither do such confessions tend?

And who shall know the bitter end?

In suchlike case no priest can e’er

Know aught of his parishioner,

Whose soul should be his constant cure.

At nought such practice sets the pure

And holy Scripture, which doth teach

Pastors to know the voice of each

Sheep of their flock. But willingly

I leave both priests and prelates free

Poor men and women to confess,

Who for most part are penniless;

But little guerdon thence were got.

Why so?

Because they have it not;

Poor needy, caitiff creatures they.

The good fat sheep I bear away,

And to the pastors leave the poor

Lean hungry ones, who growl therefor.

And if the prelates dare to scold,

Who in their hearts dire anger hold,

For loss of many a good fat beast

Whereon they hoped long time to feast,

I’ll give them such a mortal bruise

That cross and mitre both they’ll lose.